


Be Careful What You Wish For

by evansrogerskitten



Category: Dean Winchester - Fandom, SPN, Sam Winchester - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Binge Drinking, Explicit Language, F/M, Flashbacks, I say fuck too much, Implied Smut, Making Out, Promiscuity, Time Travel, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 21:31:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10885320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evansrogerskitten/pseuds/evansrogerskitten
Summary: The night before her 34th birthday, OFC Ash wishes her life was different. Suddenly she and the Winchester brothers are sent back in time as she figures out what, and who, she wants.





	Be Careful What You Wish For

**Author's Note:**

> I've been going through a lot of shit personally lately, and was also bummed about my birthday. So I decided to channel it into this fanfic.
> 
> This is also for @Ja-welovedean's Ghostbusters Challenge and Jess & Lee’s Crack Challenge. Prompts are in bold.

I sighed as my elbows spread out across the shiny wood table in the middle of the library. Half a bottle of whiskey down, and I was getting sadder with each drink. I looked up as a whistle sounded from the bunker’s kitchen. Dean came around the corner, a beer in each hand. He stopped short when he saw me with the tall green bottle front of me.

With a tilt of his head, Dean walked up the short stairs to me.

“You okay?” He asked as he handed me a beer, and then moved the whiskey bottle to the other end of the table.

“Yeah. Just bummed out. And my damn ankle is killing me.” I glared at my wrapped ankle that was propped up in front of me, resting after a nasty fall hunting.

“That’s a bad sprain.” Dean nodded as he took a drink.

“Yeah, real nice of that bitch to magic me down two flights of stairs.”

“Cranky.” Dean teased in his deep voice, a hint of compassion to keep our conversation light hearted.

“It’s just this job. Sometimes it’s so shitty.” I responded, taking a drink of my beer. “And I got the most dramatic call from my brother. I just can’t even deal with his shit anymore. You know he’s going to jail? Again?”

Dean nodded in acknowledgement. “You’ve always said you had issues with him, ever since we met you a few years ago. 

“He’s the one with the issues. Fucking drug addict.” I muttered as I sat back in my chair, running my hands through my hair as it fell behind me. “Whatever. Plus it’s my birthday, which is bullshit cuz everything sucks right now.”

“Where is Sam? Sam!” I drunkenly called through the library.

“Hey.” Sam appeared around the corner at the utterance of his name. “ **I just came down to get some ice.** ” He dropped the freezing cold ice packet onto my ankle, smiling down at me as I hissed at the cold.

Dean chuckled and leaned in. “And hey, at least Sam is way older by a week.”

“I’m older than who?”

“Ash. She turns 34 tomorrow. You’re already 34.”

Sam smiled, squeezing my shoulder as he walked by and settled in a chair across from to me. “I am 34, that’s true. But I have to tell you, so far 34 and a week hasn’t been terrible. Well, besides the witches.

I laughed. “Besides the witches.”

“You should go to bed. We’ll have a new day tomorrow. I’ll even make you breakfast.” Dean smiled, helping me out of my chair.

“Ooooh birthday breakfast.” I was way drunker than I thought as I stood up, Dean’s arm wrapped around me so I wouldn’t stumble. “Night Sammy. Drink that whiskey.”

Sam grinned and grabbed the bottle. “I’ll get right to it.”

Before we got out of the war room Dean sighed. Rather than helping me stumble all the way down the hall with one bad foot and one drunk foot, Dean swung his arms under my knees and lifted me, carrying me the rest of the way to my bedroom.

As he set me down on the mattress I giggled. “Thanks.”

“Time for bed.” 

“No Dean, let’s stay up and talk. Like about life.” I replied, my body dropping sideways onto the mattress. “Don’t you wish it all could’ve been better? That it could be different now? I do. I wish we were younger and could try to be different people.”

Dean pulled my sweatshirt off before gently pushing me down onto the bed. “Unfortunately we don’t get second chances.”

I nodded, intertwining my fingers with his. “I wish we’d met when we were younger. I wish I could…”

Dean waited for me to continue my thought. “You wish what?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I smiled, carefully pulling my blanket over my jean-clad legs. “I was just thinking things could’ve been different.”

Dean smiled and leaned over, kissing me on the forehead. “Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart. We can’t always get what we want.”

I smiled and closed my eyes, mumbling a reply as Dean said “Good Night beautiful," shutting the door behind him.

* * *

When I woke up in the morning my head didn’t hurt as bad as I expected. In fact I didn’t feel hungover at all. I did feel weird though. I opened my eyes and looked up, the ceiling painted lavender rather than the gray cement in the bunker. I twisted over under my blanket, realizing as I moved my body that it was completely different than I was used to. And my ankle didn’t hurt.

I sat up in bed, looking around at the eerily familiar decor and then down at my body. 

“What the mother fuck.” I whispered as I looked at my small, pretty hands. Not an age spot or wrinkle. My legs were shorter and holy shit, what happened to my awesome boobs! My greatest assets were now small and tucked into a Stussy t-shirt.

“Oh what…” I whispered, noticing my Nirvana poster alongside a glossy picture of Leo and Kate at the Golden Globes. The first time. “What. The…”

I racked my brain, pinched and smacked myself, anything to wake up from this weird dream. There was a knock on the door and I cringed, praying Dean wouldn’t walk in and laugh at me.

But it was my mother. My young, happy mother. She grinned as she walked in, picking up dirty laundry and straightening all of the books strewn across my nightstand. 

“Good Morning birthday girl!” She sang, sitting on the edge of the bed before kissing my forehead. “I can’t believe you’re already 14. Seems like you were just a little 4 year old girl!”

“Mom?” I asked softly, a lump stuck in my throat as I remembered this time with her. She was beautiful. “You’re real?”

She laughed, her voice like a singsong. “Yes. Now get up and get ready. I’ll make you a birthday breakfast before school.”

As soon as she shut the door I scrunched my eyes tight together. “Cas? Cas, I need help. This isn’t right.”

After a few seconds I opened my eyes. No Cas. Apparently still MIA. “Damnit, am I really about to go back to junior high? I hated junior high.”

After searching through my endless wide leg baggy jeans and grunge rock shirts, I settled on a long plaid and the skinniest pair of jeans I could find. The Adidas thrown in the back of my closet weren’t awful. I ignored my costume jewelry and shook my head as I pulled a scrunchie over my wrist.

Looking in the mirror, I smiled. Besides the erratic acne, I looked beautiful. So young. No dark circles, no wrinkle lines around my eyes or smile, no scars. I smirked as I turned my shoulder to see it bare, my body clear of any tattoos. Unbelievably, I really was 14 again.

After an embarrassing serenade of happy birthday by my mom and my little sister, I escaped to the bus down the street. Fuck, it was so smelly. I noticed the ‘popular’ kids in the back of the bus 

“Preps.” I muttered their nickname under my breath, still annoyed by that group. I wanted to go over and tell Miss Prom Queen that come 20 years, she’d would be on her second divorce and monopolizing Facebook with her leggings business.

School was weird. My best friend Chelsea bounded to my side, immediately launching into a story about a guy named Mike that she, and every other girl in our grade, “luuuuved”.

“You know, he’s kind of like Jordan Catalano in that he’s kinda dangerous and edgy, but also kind of like JC Chavez who is more someone that’d go to dances and meets parents, you know?”

“Jesus, I haven’t thought about Jordan Catalano in ages.” I muttered under my breath before Chelsea’s high voice interrupted me.

“Oh, and yay it's your birthday!” She hugged me, handing me a handmade card with cutouts of our favorite celebrities pasted on top. “Two more years, we’ll have our licenses, and the world is ours!”

Oh jesus. 16. Please Chuck, don’t make me 16 again. 

I shuffled through my classes, grateful for my serious (undiagnosed) OCD, which included specific times and locations for my class listed in my zip-up 3-ring binder. (Fucking zip-up binders. This is really happening.)

After our last class Chelsea found me in the hallway. “Mike and his friends are hanging out at his house and I told them it was your birthday and they said to come over and hang. Oh my gawddddd!! Mike!!”

I laughed. “Sure, lead the way.”

I followed her down the hallway, quietly remembering the faces and the rooms around me. But when I looked up and saw him, I suddenly felt like I was in an angsty teenage drama.

He was tall and handsome. My breath caught in my throat as I watched him. A cocky grin for the blonde under his arm, as his shoulders stretched under the heavy brown leather jacket he was wearing. I sighed, watching him as he walked by, a confidence in his step that was eerily familiar and insanely attractive. He turned for a moment, bright sunshine filtering through the student center and into his eyes. And the green color hit me like a punch to the chest.

“Holy fuck!” I exclaimed, running down the hallway towards him. “Dean!”

He stopped short a few yards in front of me, a smirk as his face. The girl next to him scoffed at me, pulling her pink sweater over her shoulders.

“I’ll come find you later, sweetheart.” Dean told the girl, who pouted as she turned and walked away. Dean turned to me. I grinned seeing that smile, even so much younger. “How can I help you darlin’?”

“It’s me. It’s Ash, you jerk. Stop dogging all these teenage girls.”

Dean stepped back for a second, peering into my eyes. With a loud whoop he scooped me tight into his arms as he realized that yes, inside of this teenage shell was indeed 34 year old me.

“What the hell is going on?” Dean asked as he set me down. “Why are we in our young bodies?”

“I have no idea. It’s weird as fuck.”

“You’re telling me.” Dean shook his head, a serious shadow crossing across his young face. “My dad dropped us off this morning.”

“Whoa.” I replied. John Winchester had been dead for ten years. This was seriously twisted.

“Where’s Sam?” I asked, panic crossing my face.

Dean chuckled. “He’s here somewhere. Shorter than me. It’s hilarious.”

“Dean!” Pink Sweater called out. “Are we gonna go to the movies?”

“Dude, you can’t go.” I coughed to hide my laugh. “Dean, she’s underage.”

Dean looked from me, back to her, then back to me. “Technically so am I.”

“Technically you’re a 38 year old man and should be locked up for this.” I insisted. Behind me I heard Chelsea call out to me.

“Be good, Dean.”

“I will. I promise I won’t do anything stupid.” He nodded. “You can’t either.”

“Yeah, I’m 14. Nothing is gonna happen.”

“Yeah right.” Dean leaned down and kissed my cheek. I felt a rush of arousal run through my limbs at his touch. Holy shit, I was so fucking horny. When I looked up I knew my cheeks were bright red. “Be good.”

I nodded, speechless as he walked away. Chelsea appeared at my side.

“Do you know him?”

“Yeah.” I responded with a smile. “He’s a pretty big deal in my world." 

Chelsea’s brows furrowed. “Do you still want to go to Mike’s?”

“Oh sure,” I responded.

“Don’t you need to call your mom?” Chelsea asked. We’d stopped in the middle of the hallway, classmates streaming around us. “I called mine and she said it was fine.”

“Oh yeah. Sure.” I pulled my backpack towards me and reached inside to grab my phone, which wasn’t there. “Can I use your phone?”

Chelsea gave me a weird look. “Like at my house? Yeah but why go all the way there? And if I go home my mother is gonna try to give me a curfew and I totally think we’re way too old for curfews. I mean, Shanna’s mom lets her go into Seattle all the time without a parent. I fracking wish.”

I grinned, shaking my head at the substitute swear word. I noticed a pay phone in the lobby. “I’ll call her.”

Thirty minutes later the bus dropped us off in front of Mike’s house. Suddenly I remembered this guy. He’d be the most popular guy in school, break Chelsea’s heart, and marry Pink Sweater only to leave her alone and pregnant. What a douche bag.

Mike’s mom let us in, and we shuffled down to basement floor where Mike and three other guys were sitting on a flowered couch while Mike’s brother played Silver Chair and Oasis songs on his guitar. Chelsea flirted with Mike while I casually talked to one of the other guys. He was adorable, like a puppy. It took me a while to realize why he looked so eerily familiar.

“Sam, is that you?” I asked calmly, trying not to freak him out.

“Oh fuck, Ash. I thought it was you but this is all so messed up and I didn’t know if you’d made it or if it was just Dean and I.” The words burst out of Sam, and I placed my hand on his arm to calm him. “It’s my birthday, Sam. I think I fucked up time or something.”

Sam nodded, his voice coming out with a cracked squeak. “It has to be an angel or a spell. Something supernatural.” 

I smiled in agreement. “We gotta get back to our normal ages.”

Mike suddenly interrupted us. “So Chelsea says it’s your birthday. And for your birthday, I think Sam here should give you 14 kisses.”

“Oh great, this dude.” I muttered under my breath. Now I really remembered this douche bag. “I’m cool. Actually, I think I’m gonna go.”

Chelsea shook her head at me as Mike’s arm snaked closer around her waist. This was a bad episode of Dateline just waiting to happen. Then it suddenly occurred to me. I was 14. I didn’t have my first boyfriend until I was 16. Meaning I hadn’t really kissed anyone before.

I looked at Sam, who just stared at me awkwardly. He chuckled nervously, which made me laugh out loud. What the hell were we doing?

“I’m gonna walk home, I think.” I announced, sliding off the couch. “Come on, Chels.”

Chelsea looked at Mike and then back to me. “I’m gonna stay for a little while I think.”

“I don’t think you should.” My maternal instinct kicked in. “Walk home with us. We’ll go by your house on the way.”

Chelsea agreed but not before giving Mike an obnoxious kiss, which made me gag. Thank god he’d dump her and knock up Pink Sweater instead. Chels would do so much better with her own family once she moved away in a couple years.

After dropping off Chelsea, Sam and I kept walking to my house. On the way I told him about the neighborhood, the places I’d learned to ride my bike, the night my dad moved out. It was like it all had just happened. Sam understood.

“I cried this morning. You know, in the bathroom. Seeing my dad, young like that.” Sam shook his head in disbelief. “It fucking scared me. I never thought in a million years I’d see him like that again.’

“Yeah. I was sad about my Mom too.” As we neared my house Sam grabbed my arm and we stopped.

“When you were 14, had you kissed anyone?”

I thought back. “Well, kinda. But I was 12 and it was spin the bottle which is ridiculous and I don’t even remember…” Before I could finish my sentence, Sam’s lips were pressed to mine.

We pulled away and looked at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.

“Why'd you do that?” I laughed, grinning at my friend.

“Cuz it's your birthday. And we're 14.” Sam was blushing through his giggles, a side I rarely saw of him as a man. “I guess part of me wanted you to be my first kiss. Cuz at least I know you from before. So...Happy Birthday Ash.”

I wrapped my skinny arms around Sam. “Thank you. I’m so glad I found you guys. At least this will be weird together." 

He nodded. “Dean loves you, you know.”

I pulled away, looking into Sam's eyes. “Why would you say that?”

“Cuz you love him too. Well, at 34 that is.”’

I shook my head for a moment, not denying the truth but surprised that Sam knew.

Sam let go of me when the neighbor’s dog started to bark. “I should get back to the hotel.”

“My mom can drive you.” I told him. “Holy fuck, that’s weird to say.”

Sam laughed, leaning up on his tiptoes to be tall enough to kiss me on the forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Now you’re old, just like me.”

The rest of the evening was comforting. My favorite dinner of Velveeta shells and cheese, plus homemade birthday cake. Watching Friends with my sister and laughing at the jokes I never understood at 14. Finally I got into bed, chuckling when I found my journal under my pillow.

“Wow.” I sighed, looking through the angst filled pages. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. Quickly before I had to turn my lights out at 9:00 PM, I wrote:

_Had my first real kiss today. And found the man of my dreams. It was a good 14._

I flicked off my Keroppi lamp, and scooted under my sheets with a sigh, deciding we had to find a way to get home tomorrow.

* * *

“Ash!” I could hear the yelling but I was determined to ignore it. “Girl, get the fuck out of bed! I want to go to the pool.”

I turned on my side towards the bitchy voice, slowly smiling as I recognized it. “No way.”

“What? Fine, suit yourself.” My college roommate responded. “But I need some sun, and you promised you wouldn’t be hungover today!" 

The hotel room was a disaster. Curling irons, clothes, mini bottles of liquor strewn everywhere. I looked down at the bedside table and noticed a little card that listed “Las Vegas area codes” with the MGM Grand logo at the top.

“Are we in Vegas?” I asked incredulously.

“Ummmm yeah. How drunk are you right now?” Heather responded, tucking her huge tits into a halter-top. “I know you only had five drinks last night, but you can usually handle way more than that.”

I looked down and grabbed my own perky breasts and thin hips, so relieved to see them.

“So what’re we doing in Vegas, Heather?”

“Seriously? It’s your 24th birthday today.”

I gasped in disbelief. After a few seconds I leaned over and laughed even harder. This was beyond messed up.

“Heather! Oh my god!” I screeched, leaping out of bed in just a tank top and my underwear. “I miss you so much!”

“Well I saw you like six hours ago when we went to sleep. So...you’re being weird.” Heather responded around the toothbrush in her mouth. “You didn’t take any of the ecstasy that guy offered us, right?”

“No.” I shook my head adamantly. “I’m just thrilled we’re here. This was an awesome trip!”

“Uhhh, me too.” She giggled. “You sure you’re okay? The rest of the girls will be here tonight, but I thought we could lay by the pool and pre-funk.”

I had no idea how I would be able to drink all day and then night again. I guess once upon a time I could. And this was that time.

The day was spent drinking margaritas and smoking cigarettes at the pool. I couldn't believe how thin I was, my body fitting into a size 6 bikini which never would've happened in my 30’s. Heather made friends, as always, inviting a group of guys to go out with us that night. I shook my head as I watched. This girl would in three years become a pastor’s wife and pop out four kids in six years. But here she was taking a body shot off of some 21-year-old dude in sunny Las Vegas.

Finally we went inside, getting all dressed up to ‘go clubbin.’ From what I could remember I hated ‘clubbin’ and really wanted to just go to a bar and shoot the shit. But four more of our girlfriends showed up, and soon it was tequila shots for everyone and dancing on the bar at Coyote Ugly to Nelly Furtado and Destiny’s Child. 

The third place was smaller and not as club-like. Heather immediately made friends with the bartender, ordering yet another round of shots. I silently reminded myself how lucky I was that I never got alcohol poisoning because this was ridiculous. My body didn’t seem to mind the booze but my mind did. Turning away from the bar my friend Jess motioned me over to a booth where she was sitting with two incredibly handsome guys. 

I was sizing them up until I was five steps away. “Holy shit.”

“Holy fuck, you are here!” Dean exclaimed happily, pushing Jess out of the booth so he could pull me into his arms. “Oh my god. You are a sight for sore eyes.” He pulled away and then looked me up and down. “Holy shit. Like really sore eyes.”

“Shut up.” I said. “I was in my prime, okay?”

“Sure. Okay.” Dean grinned, sliding back into the booth. 

Sam was smiling at me shyly. “Hi Ash.”

“Hi Sam.” He had just kissed me the day before, when we were 14. And we both remembered.

I looked back to Dean. “What the hell are you guys doing here?”

“Annual trip to Vegas.” Dean replied. “Well, supposedly its annual. I don’t remember this day though.”

Jess was annoyed that I'd taken Dean’s attention away from her. “I’m gonna go talk to the girls.” 

I nodded as she walked away. Nice girl. Facebook acquaintance eventually.

“So we remember our original time, and our youths but not the specific days as we’re living them?”

Sam nodded. “We think so.” 

“Witch?” I asked.

“Must be. The Trickster is dead and I don’t know why any other dick angel would bother with all this.” Dean took a long pull on his beer. Wild thoughts raced through my mind. I could totally fuck Dean and it just be this thing that happened in Vegas. You only live once, right? And no one cares what your number is.

“Oh my god, we have to get back.” I groaned, putting my hand up to my head. “I just remembered I make terrible decisions in my early 20’s.”

Dean nodded, a devilish grin crossing his face. “I never made good decisions then either.“ 

Heather came over with another round of shots. I introduced her to the boys, and she settled into the booth next to Dean.

Immediately I was jealous. I knew how Heather was back then. If I had been promiscuous, she was down right slutty. Girl had sucked more cock in that last year alone than she could remember. But we were young and thought we were invincible. I smiled at Sam as we listened to the two of them flirt. But with every giggle I got more frustrated.

“I’m gonna go have a cig.” I announced, leaving them behind me. After a few drags I heard the door of the bar open. I turned, expecting to see Sam coming out to check on me. But it was Dean.

“Can I have one of those?” He asked. I pulled my pack of cigarettes from my purse and handed one to him.

“I never took you for a smoker, Dean.”

“Likewise. You always said you hated it.”

I nodded, enjoying another inhale. “By the time I’m 34, I hate it. Can’t have one without puking. But now, at 24…” I smiled and shook my head nostalgically, looking around at the lights of the bar and street just off the Vegas strip. “So many times I’ve wished to be 25 again. Fun all the time. Alcohol. Sex. Men. I was insatiable.”

“And now? Meaning 34?” Dean asked, the smoke falling from his lips. “You don’t want that?”

“No. I realize now that I don’t want this. This isn’t me.”

Dean chuckled. “I wish you could see you how I see you. Not this. Well, fuck. This.” Dean looked me up and down again with a sly grin. I laughed but he went on. “You’re incredibly hot. Now and then.”

“Thanks Dean.” I smirked, finishing my smoke and scraping the butt across the ground with my heel.

“I mean it though.” He responded. “You’re always so beautiful and you just don’t get it.” 

I crossed my arms across my barely covered cleavage. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Dean smiled. “Really.”

The remaining poisonous smoke and the thump of music from the bar swirled around us. I watched Dean warily as he stomped out his cigarette and then stepped in front of me.

I looked up at him, my fingers slowly going up the lapel of the brown leather jacket, which honestly was ridiculous because it was the desert but then again, it was Dean. His mouth moved closer and closer to mine, and I didn’t move as his lips met mine. It was just a moment until a loud group of people burst out of the bar. Our young bodies had a mind of their own, and I giggled as Dean looked down my sparkly shirt and ran his finger across my half exposed breast.

“Watch it, Winchester.” I breathed, his hand snaking around my back to push me against the wall. People were walking back and forth, but neither of us cared when he finally kissed me. Like an _oh my fucking god Dean Winchester is kissing me yes hallelujah_ kiss. It was strange because even though it was us in our correct minds, the excuse that we weren’t ourselves let us push further, our tongues in each other's mouths as Dean felt me up right there on the side of the building. Neither of us came up for air until we heard someone calling my name.

Heather was standing at the door of the bar, hooting and hollering for me. “Yes girl, get it! But come on we have a birthday shot for you.”

I giggled and pulled away, letting her take my hand as I dragged Dean’s behind me.

Everything was fuzzy from there. I knew we went to a few more bars, and I know the boys were with us. At the end of the night I remember Sam telling me they wouldn’t leave me until I was safe in my hotel room. I kind of remembered sloppily kissing Dean in front of everyone as they got my drunk ass into bed. And I remember my last words to my friends. 

“Ok, I don’t know Vegas though but I think I found the man of my dreams tonight.”

* * *

I was groggy when I woke up again. I silently prayed that Heather was still passed out and I could get up in silence for a few minutes. When I opened my eyes I thought my vision was blurry for a second. Gray concrete. Gray concrete?! I squealed happily as I looked around my bedroom at the bunker.

Looking down I noticed I was still in my t-shirt and jeans. My breasts weren’t as high and tight as they once were, but more voluptuous than ever before. My hands had definitely aged, and my knees popped uncomfortably as I rolled out of bed. I walked carefully to the mirror, favoring my good ankle. I was happy to see my face with its dark circles, eye wrinkles, a couple sunspots and a scar on my forehead from a wendigo encounter. I smiled in the mirror, turning to grab a sweatshirt when I heard the humming.

I slowly turned behind me to find the trickster archangel singing [“You Can’t Always Get What You Want” by The Rolling Stones](https://open.spotify.com/track/6lFZbCc7pn6Lme1NP7qQqQ).

“Holy shit! Gabriel! I thought you were dead?” I put my hand across my heart as it beat loudly against my chest at the surprise appearance of this little angelic monster.

“Oh honey, I never was dead.” His smile calmed me even though I fought the urge to scream for help.

“What?!”

“Witness protection, remember?” My sweatshirt appeared in Gabriel’s hands and he helped me into the sleeves. “Surely the Winchesters think I’m dead?" 

“Yes. But why? Why are you back? And why’d you just play with our minds like that?”

“My reasons are twofold,” Gabriel obnoxiously held up a finger in front of me, “One. To show you what you wish for isn’t what you want after all. You have what you need. And twooo, Dean needs you by his side during the fight against Lucifer. You needed to be sure now, that you’ll be there for him when the time comes to kill Satan.”

I stared at him, my mouth slightly open as I went over everything he’d said. “Dean is going to kill Lucifer?”

“Yep. You needed to realize how you felt so GI Joe Hunter would take on the battle with your support. He can’t without you.”

“Okay.” I quietly said. “Thanks? But why those memories? And on my birthday?”

“I’ve always had a soft spot for you, even if it meant a trick or two. I needed to show you this. The dumbass Winchesters too I guess.” Gabriel smiled, running his hand across my cheek as if I was his child. “Besides, you should thank me!” 

“Couldn’t you have just told me?”

“Nah, this was far more fun. Your face when you figured out you were 14 was hilarious!” Gabriel bent over at his sides, wheezing from laughing so hard.

“Oh fuck off.” I responded.  
  
Gabriel smiled and with a wink the archangel disappeared and I was even more confused than before.

I threw open my bedroom door open and limped down the hallway as quickly as I could, calling for the boys.

Sam was doing research on his laptop at the table in the kitchen while Dean was making bacon and eggs. I burst into the room, startling them both.

“Gabriel!” I announced. “He did it!”

Dean turned the stove off and came over to me as I fell onto a seat at the table. Sam’s eyes were wide. “Gabriel? The angel? Is he still here?" 

“No, he left. He said that it was to teach me to be careful what I think I want. And that…”

Dean’s eyes met mine as I turned to him. “Dean, he said you’re gonna fight Lucifer. And you’d need me with you. Like together.”

The boys were speechless. Quickly I told them about the rest of my conversation with Gabriel.

“Well, guess that douche bag is back,” Dean grumbled as he walked back to the stove. “I’m still gonna make breakfast.”

Dean set plates in front of us ten minutes later, asking me to tell them for the third time what Gabriel said.

“And then he disappeared.” I said as I bit into a piece of bacon. My voice was muffled as I continued. “Do you have a _fok?”_  

“Excuse me?” Dean asked with a funny expression on his face, an eyebrow raised as he watched my expression.

“No, Dean. **You misheard me, I said ‘Do you have a fo _rk_?” **

Dean smirked, and I closed my eyes for a second as the memories from the day/decade before came back to me again. When I opened my eyes I could see he was remembering too. 

Sam cleared his throat, gently reminding us that he was there. After a 6-hour Marvel movie marathon Sam offered to go out and get food from my favorite Greek restaurant. Finally Dean and I were alone in the War Room. We were silent for a few minutes, each of us waiting for the other one to say something. Finally I decided to break the ice.

“Did Sam tell you he kissed me?”

Dean laughed as he anxiously picked at the wrapper on his beer bottle. “Yeah, he told me. I think he wanted to beat me to it.”

The room was silent again as Dean’s words settled. He cleared his voice and turned in his chair towards me.

“What I did in Vegas- I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. You were drunk, and I shouldn’t have taken advantage.” Dean rambled. “I didn’t ever want our first kiss to be like that, you know?”

“Dean, stop.” I replied, putting my hand on his. “I like you. A lot. I didn’t know how you felt until all of this. Gabriel confirmed what I already knew.” I shook my head. "I know what I want now." 

"Yeah? What?" He teased, leaning over to kiss my cheek. I smiled as he stood up, pulling me into his embrace.

"You." I replied seriously, looking into his intense green eyes. "In that world, I wanted you."

He smiled, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. "In this reality, all I've wanted is you."

Dean leaned over and kissed me. Not like the kiss in Vegas. This was softer, kinder, with a simmering fire behind it that made me moan quietly. His arms wrapped tighter around me as my little moans were finally met by a groan of his own.

“I’ll never be able to explain to you how beautiful you are.” Dean told me, holding my face close. “I’ve thought you were beautiful for three years.”

“Or twenty, depending on your understanding of the time space continuum.” I replied in between kisses.

“Come on." He took my hand, leading me down the hallway to his bedroom. “We’ve got twenty years of sexual tension to make up for.”

34 was the best birthday I ever had. 

**Author's Note:**

> Property of evansrogerskitten. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post.


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